High from the earth I heard a bird;
He trod upon the trees
As he esteemed them trifles,
And then he spied a breeze,
And situated softly
Upon a pile of wind
Which in a perturbation
Nature had left behind.
A joyous-going fellow
I gathered from his talk,
Which both of benediction
And badinage partook,
Without apparent burden,
I learned, in leafy wood
He was the faithful father
Of a dependent brood;
And this untoward transport
His remedy for care,—
A contrast to our respites.
How different we are!

  • 0
  • 0
  •  
  •  
Login to comment...
Email

Other works by Emily Dickinson...

Some poets who follow Emily Dickinson...

Aldair Acevedo @rlenrm (regueiro mas) Lxnnnie Rutledzh Arianna Buchholz Alison Furey Sandra Pien